Summer Haze
by XLcatloveress
Summary: Two boys on the cusp of adulthood spend a lazy summer afternoon while grappling with emotions that might be too big to hold in - but dare they profess them? (a look at Remus and Sirius as they spend a summer afternoon at the Potters and push far, far down emotions they dare not have about the other - R/S pre-slash, pre Sirius' running away from Grimmauld Place)


Author's note: This fic was co-written between myself and another writer (who does not have an -account). Since either of us wrote one character each, there might be tiny hitches at the transitioning between character in a way that we might have backtracked in one paragraph a bit to include a reaction to something written for the other character in a paragraph prior. We trust that you guys and gals will be able to figure it out ;) That said, enjoy, and let us know what you think!

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Remus yawns in a chair by the big bay window that looks out on the fields beyond Godric's Hollow. The sun falls across the big book in his lap and the afghan resting across his legs. It always feels more comfortable to read with a blanket of some sort. He looks over at James, sprawled across his bed and snoring gently, and vaguely wonders where Sirius has gotten to. He glances over at the big grandfather clock in the corner and sighs. It's one of those silly clocks that is currently set to 'nap'. So instead, he reaches into his pocket and... groans. How long has he been reading in one position anyway? He has no idea. What was his last meal? Again, no idea. With a stifled groan, he sets the book aside on the small table next to the chair and stretches gingerly. He's hungry, or probably will be once his body catches up to him. "Oi, Sirius?" he looks casually around the room. "Where have you gotten to?"

Sirius has watched first James, then Remus nod off, and has been uncharacteristically quiet (after dissuading James from a game of Exploding Snap which wouldn't have been conducive to Remus' reading and the general peace prevalent on this hot summer afternoon). Even the flies have been too lazy to buzz about much, and so, as his friends slowly succumbed to their naps, he had shifted into Padfoot (less fidgety energy that way) and had guarded their slumbers. Not that it was necessary, what with Godric's Hollow being the most peaceful, serene place he could ever imagine, the kind of place where nothing ever happened outside of a gnome infestation in the neighbor's backyard or the friendly small-town rivalry between two amateur (and rather impromptu put-together) quidditch teams. It was, in essence, quite a boring little town, especially when you were a teenaged boy with more money to spend than was good for you and more than your fair share of freedom-loving adventurous spirit. But for once, Sirius was content to just .. be. He had arrived at James' place only yesterday, had slipped away with the help of Alphard, and there were things ..

When even Padfoot's form (whose existence they had before accredited to 'some neighbor letting their dog run free' when James' parents had stumbled upon him in that form and had inquired as to the sudden presence of a giant dog in their house) hadn't been enough to shield him from thoughts and memories, he had risen in one swift move and trotted forward, only to shift as he reached the window, the side-panes of which were flung wide open. From here, you could see the fields and meadows that surround Godric's Hollow, abuzz with critters the city-boy in Sirius wouldn't have been able to name had someone forced him at wand-point, and if you squinted just right, you caught glimpses of the rippling water of a small but always cool lake behind some trees on the far fringes of the Potter land. Quietly, on bare feet, Sirius had climbed out onto the roof and had settled there, comfortable, eyes closed as he dropped his head back, his dark hair already sticking to his temples and shoulders as he began to bake in the hot sun. He had long since tossed his shirt and was only clad in an old pair of James' pants his mother had cut off below the knee when he had outgrown them in length. Elbows firmly planted against the roof, he stretched out his long legs before his slender body on the slanted surface, and let the hot sun drive all thoughts, all worries, all memories from his mind.

It must have worked, for he startles when he hears Remus call out to him. Opening one eye, he lazily glances towards the window he climbed out of. He knows that Remus will hear him without yelling, so he replies quietly " 'm here, sleepy-pants."

Remus hears Sirius, but is at first confused as to where the voice has come from. He looks out the window, and a breeze catches his nose. With a suppressed groan he realizes that the light scratching sound from above is Sirius. On the roof. He sticks his head out the window and looks up into the blinding sun. Perhaps not the best idea he's ever had. He winces at the light, then reaches almost blindly for the edge of the roof and grabs it, testing it for its sturdiness. Of course it's sturdy. Why wouldn't it be? He slides himself out the window and clambers up, more or less gracefully. He pauses on the edge for a moment, then climbs up a little higher to sit next to where Sirius is reclining. He sits there for a moment, and then says with a wry smile, "I wasn't sleeping. I was... reading."

After answering, Sirius closes his eyes again so as to not be blinded by the .. well .. blinding sun, and he misses Remus' antics as the other boy joins him on the roof. He grins as he hears Remus refute that he slept. "Uhuh, right.", he intones. "Sure you read. For about 5 minutes after James dozed off." A fly bumbles by and situates itself on his nose so he reaches up to dislodge it and scratch at the itch it leaves behind. It is then that he notices something. "Err .. ouch?" Sitting up, he blinks his eyes open and looks down his front. "Uh .. double-ouch." For all the dark complexion running rampant in his family's hair colors, they are all a pasty lot, and usually well-covered ("It does _not_ behoove a Black to be gallivanting about half-naked. Not unless you want to end up like poor unfortunate great-great-uncle Ignatius." Who was locked away in a very exclusive, very private and very pricey institution for being untenable in society due to his fits of madness - or rather, fits of sanity amidst rampant bouts of insanity - far outside the scope of even such an inbred family as the Blacks were in general) - and Sirius is already starting to show just why baking in the sun for what could have been hours on his first day out of murky London and even murkier Grimmauld Place is a very bad idea.

"Accio broom.", he calls, reaching out his hand for the broom marked as 'his' for the duration of his stay at the Potters. He isn't concerned with doing magic, has grown up not being concerned due to living in a household where magic is constantly in use and it is nigh impossible for the Ministry to ascertain who was the one wielding it. It's the same in the Potter household. The broom arrives steadily in his firm grip and he swings it around. "I'm going for a swim to cool off. Coming?"

Remus was just getting to the point where he thought he could be comfortable on the roof when Sirius decides that he has another idea. He doesn't fight the idea of having taken a nap over his book-after all, it isn't exactly all that uncommon for him to do. But he doesn't feel quite ready to... oh. Okay then, swimming it is. He frowns slightly at the use of magic, but dismisses it. He doesn't need to be worried about that here. But... well, the fear doesn't go away just because he wants it to. The breeze picks up again, and he gets a strong whiff of... he swallows, and looks at Sirius hovering there on the broom. Sweaty and sunburnt. And... he swallows again as he reluctantly gets up and approaches the broom. Bathing seems like a very good idea. Very good.

"Alright then," he says, joining Sirius on the broom. "But first..." he draws a pad of paper and a fountain pen from inside his robes. Then, with a slightly mischievous smile, he uses Sirius's back as a writing surface. "Lazybritches-at the pond. When you wake up, bring food." Then he folds the note into an airplane and tosses it aside, where it flies smoothly through the window to land on James's bedside table. Maybe a little magic won't hurt. He puts his writing supplies away and smiles sweetly. "There, all set. So how's your first day in the sun, Padfoot?" He taps Sirius's shoulder.

Sirius manages to stifle a wince when Remus begins scribbling with a scratchy fountain pen on a scratchy piece of parchment right there on his back (of which he now feels that it is at least partially burned, probably from the sun streaming in side-ways as it moved along the sky). He loses the battle against the wince though when, moments later, a hand claps on his shoulder. An indrawn hiss of breath later he growls out "_Fabulous_, why do you ask? Lovely sun. Lovely day." He looks over his shoulder and his smile turns positively angelic. "_Perfectly_ lovely day for doing some lovely flying in the lovely sun, wouldn't you agree?" A raised eyebrow issues both, a challenge and a warning to hold on tight - and yeah, that too will probably bring some wince-able tenderness in the form of **OUCH**, but he can't bring himself to care as he kicks the broom into what has got to feel like terminal velocity to any passenger.

Remus is still smiling at his innocent little mischief when that dark head turns around and a wide grin splits the red face. Remus's eyes go wide with the realization of what's about to happen and his stomach drops out even before takeoff. He grabs at Sirius's waist just in time to not topple backwards off the broom. And now, pressed against the sweaty figure of Sirius Black, there is no... not... smelling... those... aromas. But at least he is somewhat distracted by the breakneck speed at which Sirius seems to think they need to be cutting through the air. He isn't even looking around, only trying to hold on for dear life. "I surrender!"

Sirius laughs, a sound filled with whooping joy and all the bonds and boundaries falling off of him, freedom invading his heart, as he flies and dips and has Remus clinging to him and is out in the sun, surrounded not by walls and regulations but fields and happiness. He laughs again as Remus' words reach his ears, almost blotted out by the wind of their rapid ascent on the small lake the Potters own as part of their estate. He dips them once, twice, three times into the water, skimming the surface with his bare feet in between bounces, kicking up a wake behind him that should splash Remus further. At least already soaked, his friend won't get to chicken out from swimming once again as tends to be his wont. Then, right above the middle of the lake, he turns the broom upside down and stops its flight mid-air. As part of the move, he simply lets go, dropping himself from about 2 feet above the water into the lake with a splash.

Past the initial moment of panic at the breakneck speed and maneuvers, Remus is almost willing to admit that he's enjoying this flight. At the very least, he enjoys Sirius enjoying. It makes him happy to see Sirius this... unrestrained and buoyant. He's been growing darker and broodier, and it seems criminal to have a boundless spirit like Sirius Black oppressed by anything. Although that glad attitude is forgotten as he sees the water coming at them fast. Too fast. He's going to crash them into the lake! He gives a shout, and is rewarded with a mouthful of water in Sirius's wake, and then a few more splashes. Remus is only just catching his breath when the broom suddenly stops, leaving them hanging upside-down.

Remus's eyes go wide, and he clutches for a handhold on the broom, on... anything, really, but as Sirius lets go, Remus goes tumbling in with him as his fingers scrabble in vain at the broom. With a hasty breath, he goes under, tangled up for a moment with Sirius. His foot gets caught on something, but he kicks up at the surface and emerges, sputtering. His expression is a cross between amusement and annoyance, though the grin quickly wins out. He treads water, freeing his foot from what was wrapped around it, and a moment later, Sirius's borrowed pants float up next to him. He laughs.

The water closes over Sirius' head and he feels Remus right there, with him, around him, a tangle of too many arms and legs and closeness, and he knows without a doubt that, even if he _could_ have breathed, he, well, couldn't have because there is entirely too much Remus entirely too close and ..

Remus kicks, moving himself up and away from Sirius, tearing on Sirius' pants in the struggle of the moment, and they come right off at the pull. Too light, too slender he had become, compared to James' Quidditch physique, too bony.

He doesn't mind the sudden near-nakedness, now only wearing the boxer-shorts his parents hate so much, lets Remus' motion push him down and away as he floats further downwards, weightless, suspended in the cooling water, all sounds cut off. Peaceful. It is with a pang of .. regret that he eventually starts kicking and swimming towards the surface, breaking the water just as his air has completely run out. What he breaks the surface _to_ is the sound of Remus' laughter and the sight of mirth on his friend's face. The regret transforms into gladness. "Oi, Remus - how's about getting rid of some of your own clothes as well? Gotta be cumbersome, swimming with so much sodden weight pulling you down." Also, they are far from where anyone might see them so that Remus need not worry about people staring at any exposed scars.

Not having much success at the surface, Remus ducks back under and executes a neat spin under the water, slipping out of his robes. He loves the feeling of being suspended in water as he peels off his socks and shoes as well, leaving him in only his light, long underwear. He surfaces again with a grin, spraying water in Sirius's direction as he flings the robe, socks, and tied-together shoes over the broomstick. And then, with a feeling of total abandonment, he tears out of his undershirt as well, reveling in the freedom of movement this affords him. With a joyous shout, he grabs a hold of the broomstick, swings himself up on it, deposits the undershirt over the bundled twigs, and dives off the broom into the water with a smooth motion, circling deep underneath to tickle Sirius feet, careful to keep his face and other parts away from flailing limbs.

It is rare to catch Remus in a moment of such .. abandon. There might be glimpses when he's caught up in a good book, or when, during their marauding, a plan of his comes through perfectly and without a hitch, utilizing great feats of magic he thought up all on his own. But it is still too rare for words, and so, Sirius enjoys being made privy to it, feels special for being given this moment all to himself. For that special treat, he doesn't even scold when Remus totally, utterly and completely mistreats the broom. A _broom_, as **clothesline**! Soon though, all that is forgotten when Remus' fingers begin tickling the most ticklish part of his body - his _feet_!

"**NOT FAIR**!" he whines as he flails and kicks and twists and splutters on all the water he swallows, which is a substantial amount. He begins coughing, then draws a deep breath in between coughs, then ducks under water, utilizing the breath he has in his lungs to lunge for Remus, reaching for his fingers, for his hands, for his arms, for anything and everything he can reach, and suddenly, there are his arms around Remus' midriff, pulling him close to constrict his movement and pin his arms against his body. Just as suddenly, the amount of air Sirius still has in his lungs is no longer enough, what with his heart thudding in his chest as if it might want to burst (exertion, of course, only just exertion), and he kicks his legs to guide them both back to the surface.

Remus grins under water, feeling... safe. Feeling at home. He feels untouchable and wonderful and weightless. Granted, this pond isn't anything compared to the ocean he's used to off the coast of Wales, but it's still... He notices Sirius' coughing distress and swims closer, concerned that he might be swallowing too much water, might be in danger, might... but then, Sirius is reaching out, and Remus feels himself caught. Caught against Sirius, pinned, and his heart hammers in his chest. He feels himself pushed upwards again, and as their heads break the surface, Remus tries to squirm out of Sirius's grasp. "Breathe, mate," he sputters. "I don't feel like playing lifeguard in my underwear, alright?" But he can't ignore the... the touch, the... "And while I could still beat you all in a treading contest, I'd like my arms back please. It'll be easier to save you from drowning that way." He grasps at anything... normal to say, anything to drown out that thudding in his chest.

"Oh, right.", Sirius says sheepishly though it takes another few moments until his arms actually follow through on the thought of letting go and giving Remus the use of his arms back. "And I'll have you know that you need not rescue me, unless of course, you make attempts on my life first and try to drown me through tickling. Which is just unfair - you are like a fish in the ocean whereas I'm just .. " He laughs as he remembers James teaching him how to swim. If not for the timely intervention and ultimate patience of James' parents, Sirius might have actually drowned in the process.

He catches sight of the poor misused broom again and motions upwards by means of raised eyebrows. "Let's get out for a moment and reposition your clothes to a more appropriate space - before James blows a casket, seeing his poor broom so mistreated!" Secretly, he hopes that Remus will join him back in the lake again afterward - it is so great to see Remus .. like that. So relaxed and .. happy! Back at Hogwarts, he barely even dips his toes in the lake, if anything. It's sad to think that he too would like to join them for a swim but cannot let go enough to permit himself such frivolities. "You can try and drown me some more right afterward, ok? And perhaps I can even recall off the top of my head the spell for the swinging rope James and I tried and tried and tried for at the lake a couple of months ago." He grins, remembering what it had been like. They had had a whole weekend of oblivious-to-the-world fun then. It was just a few weeks before he had to go back home .. but he really does not want to think about that now. And so, he ruthlessly pushes down any thoughts of that dreary, dismal place he is forced to call 'home'.

"Well," if you're going to be the one saving my life from James when he gets out here, you are welcome to. But personally, I'd just like to see him catch me in the water to commit the murder.", Remus laughs. But good-naturedly, he acquiesces and begins swimming towards the shore, leaving Sirius with the problem of getting the clothes and the broom back on his own. He's enjoying the water too much to want to get out, so he simply pauses in the shallows, with less than a foot of water between his feet and the bottom to wait for Sirius.

Sirius solves the logistics problem by launching himself up and grabbing a hold of the broom with first one hand, then the other, letting himself be pulled by it through the water as it slowly lurches towards the shore. It's not easy to steer it, but he's learned enough from playful Quidditch games with James to be able and brachiate his way through the moments it takes him to actually reach the shore. He passes Remus who is languishing in the water and splashes a bit of water in his direction by kicking his feet. "Come on, lazy - those are _your_ clothes that need removing from the broom." There's a bush right at the shore that should be perfect to place Remus' clothes if he ever wanted them dried. "How about right over there?" Now it's his chin that nudges that way since he has no hand left over for pointing.

Reluctantly, Remus follows Sirius out of the water. He hates this moment, when he has to lift himself from the water into reality. When he goes from weightlessness to... other things, and his body reminds him once again of what his mind can never fully let go. "I'm coming," he says with a sigh, tripping up the bank and pulling his clothes from the broom. He lays them carefully over the large bush, feeling... exposed. And... there is Sirius in all his glory. Too thin, really, but... still... beautiful. "Here are your pants," he adds, tossing the wet garment at Sirius's head. His throat feels dry, and he tries not to look. "I... well... I think you had a spell to show me?"

As Remus moves out of the water and on to the shore, Sirius glances his way and .. suddenly, a pair of wet cut-offs wraps it itself around his head. He peels it off, giving a slightly wonky chuckle. Where did _that_ come from? And how had he missed it heading his way? He drops it in a crumbled heap next to Remus, careless and in an absolutely typical Sirius-fashion. He glances back at Remus when he speaks up and gets his glance once again caught in the sight of Remus' rail-thin body, the scars that wrap around his body, the strength that is hidden so well underneath his meager frame. He wants to .. .. .. wants to show Remus the spell James and him perfected. Except that .. right now, he cannot even remember what the spell was meant to _do_, and all he remembers to say is "Err .. "

Remus feels the wet pants slosh into a pile at his feet, and as he bends over to pick it up, he can feel Sirius's closeness. With slightly trembling hands, he drapes the pants over the bush with the rest of the clothes. "Rat got your tongue, Sirius?" He speaks in a soft, wavering voice. Sirius is... close. And his scent is strong, even after a dousing in the water. "Or did James lock you into the secret of your rope-swing spell with an unbreakable vow?" He stands there in the sun for a moment, enjoying the feel of the warmth on his back, almost forgetting the scars there. But a soft breeze plays across that expanse of skin at the same moment, like some cruel joke. "I... I'm starting to dry off. And... that would... be a waste of water..." Where is his brain? Maybe he's just... hungry.

Sirius .. watches, and he catches the exact moment when Remus gets self-conscious about himself, and he wants to tell him .. something, something to make it better but .. maybe a rat really _did_ get his tongue because once again, he cannot find one friggin' word to say. "I .. no .. no vow. Just .. uh .. gathering my wits. It's a .. a flinging motion, as if you are flinging a rope from your wand, but remember not to pull all the way through or else, there will be a rope but you won't have its end to grab and swing from. Here, at the end, abort the motion with a circular point, as if you are tying a knot in the air." He demonstrates as he speaks, his motions sure and fluid, a strong spell-caster in his own right. On cue, the rope materializes, flings itself out over the lake where it attaches itself to an invisible point in the air. The end closest to his wand-tip ties itself into a large knot which remains within arm's reach, hovering in mid-air. It's an easy enough spell but it took a lot of trial and error and laughing and getting wet before it was absolutely perfect for their needs.

Remus turns around as Sirius approaches closer, and he wants to tell Sirius to keep his distance, but... he can't. He never could. "I... right. No vow." He leans into the bush, and feels a wave of relief as Sirius begins teaching. It's a mercy. And the old shame boils up inside. Sirius isn't his to have. He can't... be thinking these things. About his friend.

"Right..." He watches for a moment, and his brain begins to catch up. "Right," he says with more confidence, drawing his own wand to mimic Sirius's movements. He begins the movement, hesitatingly and cautiously, then pauses, turning to his teacher. "So is it a temporary charm of illusionary force and matter, or does it have an actual transfigurative element? Wouldn't that waste a lot of rope and energy? Is it centered in the caster's mind with the accompanying illusion or cast outward as a physical representation of a proper rope? Does the rope's strength have anything to do with the strength of the spell, or does it have set parameters? Arbitrary measures? Random, set, or pretedermined? Does it..."

Sirius, surprisingly enough, _knows_ all the answers to all these questions because in their years of researching one particular spell they learned how to study ANY spell, and how to categorize, and which parameters to explore in order to make stuff .. work. Knowing the answers though and letting on that he does so aren't one and the same - he does have a reputation to uphold after all - and so, instead of replying, he crosses his arms, taps his feet and affects a put-upon expression - and when _that_ doesn't manage to shut Remus up, he grabs the knot and pushes it into Remus' hands. "It's a rope, it swings above a body of water, you cling to it and then, you let go. End of teaching, class dismissed." A grin breaks over his features though and there is no denying the boyish excitement that brightens his eyes and chases from them the last remnants of darkness and cold chill he arrived with when he got to James'. The other two didn't even comment, so normal was it for them to see a different Sirius returning from vacations than they sent off beforehand, one that is more closed off, withdrawn, but obnoxious and loud at the same time, one that is leaner, meaner, harder, physically and emotionally, one that is more suspicious, less jovial, more bitingly sarcastic than good-naturedly teasing, one who wolfs down food as if it was likely for him go without soon while at the same time vigorously exhausting himself with flying at any and every chance he got, a more regal and tight-arsed Sirius rather than the goofy, laid-back Marauder he cultivated throughout the school-year.

"Go ahead, give it a try!" He calls forth a second rope right next to the one Remus is holding, quickly explaining the motion needed to call back the rope for another round of swinging once you had dug yourself out of the lake again. Then, with a hollered **WHOOP** and a mad dash, he takes a flying leap at his rope, causing it to swing wide, and with another **WHOOP**, he lets go and cartwheels head over heels into the lake. Moments later, he breaks the surface as he comes up spluttering and laughing. "Come on! Try it!"

Remus blushes as Sirius abruptly puts an end to his rambling questions, but acknowledges freely to himself how they break the whole mood of boyish jubilation. He watches as a student as Sirius puts the rope in his hands and then conjures another one... Aha! It's a temporary measured matter conjuration, most likely with a limited time... Remus's musings are interrupted by Sirius barreling past him and leaping onto his rope with a Tarzan-like cry. And with a warm feeling of contentment, Remus realizes that the mantle of darkness that Sirius has been carrying around with him seems to have... dissolved. At least for now. And he's glad. It has happened much earlier and faster this time, though he can't quite figure out why. Perhaps it's...

No. Laughing at Sirius bobbing in the water and splashing about, Remus puts it aside for now, steps back several yards, and runs at the rope. He stumbles on a rock just before hitting the rope, causing him to catch it and swing out just a little... where he dissolves into laughter as he simply slides down the rope into the shallows. Oops.

Sirius nearly _drowns_ as he doubles over in laughter, mid-water, after watching Remus fumble his first rope-swinging attempt quite badly. He flails a bit helplessly as he attempts to tread water, swim, breathe, laugh, keep himself from going under, hold his belly, wipe tears of laughter from his eyes - and all of that at the same time. He manages not to sink to the bottom of the lake like a stone, but it's a close call. "Might wanna .. work on that .. trajectory.", he wheezes, slowly making his way back to the shore. "How 'bout an added challenge?", he adds the moment he has crawled back onto the shore-line, still giggling as he gets swept up again and again in Remus' own laughter. "Furthest into the lake, best trajectory. Best out of 10 - and winner gets to .. call in _one_ favor from the loser over the course of this stay at James'. What do you say? Of course .. in case you accept the challenge, you might want to actually start trying."

When Remus finally manages to get back to his feet and breathe, he leans against a small tree by the waterside. "A challenge?" His eyebrows rise into his fringe. "Err... you realize, of course, that there isn't much of a challenge? Why don't I just owe you a favor now and be done with it?" Though, even as he says this with a wry smile, he goes back to where he started to run in the first place, his hands smarting from their initial slide down the rope. "But even so... let's see how quickly I learn." And he takes off with his uneven gait and leaps at the rope with gleeful abandon. He doesn't holler, but a peal of boyish laughter accomplishes the same effect as he allows the rope to get to its furthest point and then releases it in an ungraceful plummet into the sparkling water

Sirius is tempted to let Remus win, just .. because. But midway through the 10 attempts, his competitive streak reasserts itself and he gives it his best effort to actually win the self-proposed challenge. In the end, between the earlier slack he was cutting Remus and the other boy's added strength and leaping capabilities, it is a neck-to-neck result that nevertheless Sirius claims as a win for himself. He is mellow though, feeling delightfully tired out and cooled off, so if Remus should challenge him for the win, he would easily grant victory. 10 jumps done though, he feels ready to just kick back in the shade under the trees for a bit, and so, he crawls back to the shore and climbs out. Utilizing a shift into Padfoot, he shakes himself as dry as he can get, then shifts back into Sirius and summons a towel to dry off the rest. Placing the towel as a blanket on the ground, he then flops down on it (managing to even **flop** gracefully, not a mean feat) and stretches out with his head pillowed by his arms. It really is a beautiful day, he muses, as he lazily watches Remus approach. Beautiful. Utterly beautiful.

"So, I believe I am owed a favor?" A dangerous thing to submit to a Black, a blanko favor. Though in Sirius' case, it probably will have less to do with Dark or Blood Magic, and more with maraudery sneakiness.

Ten jumps into the water. With raw hands and a sore body from the impact, Remus is certain that he couldn't have made it eleven. Even so, it was fun, and he gracefully acknowledges Sirius's victory. There is just... a simple and elegant beauty in the way Sirius moves. In the way he just... lives.

He follows Sirius up onto the bank, vaguely wondering where on earth he'd acquired a towel. But it doesn't really matter. He's tired. And hungry. He lowers himself gently onto the ground beside Sirius, not caring if he gets dirty or stained for once. He even almost manages to forget about the scars crossing over his body. He stretches out, folding his hands on his chest and closing his eyes. And then Sirius speaks. Without opening his eyes, Remus smiles. "A deal is a deal. But if you want it now... you may be out of luck." He pulls his wand and lazily erects an invisible sunscreen shield. He has no desire to look like a lobster, and he left the far more effective cream in the house, which he is definitely too lazy to go back to.

Sirius glances over at Remus as his friend speaks, and the smile, exhausted but happy, nearly melts him into a puddle inside. Or .. it might be the heat, scorching him from without and from within, between the sun and the sunburn. Speaking of sunburn - Remus has definitely just erected a shield, and Sirius wants some of it. Enlarging the towel he is resting on (which, incidentally, is one out of the Potters' linen closet), he then nudges closer to Remus, at once offering the towel to lie on and whining about the unfairness of not being included in the shield. "Come on, mate, scootch over, I've got room to spare and you've got a screen to share. And no, in case you were wondering, that is _not_ yet the favor you owe me. That will be something **far** more spectacular!"

Remus chuckles as Sirius whines a little. But he was expecting that. Expanding the sun screen is an easy task, and he shuffles over onto the towel, feeling incredibly lazy. And sore. But mostly lazy. "I know," he says simply as Sirius says that this is not the favor. "I expect you to ask me to do something completely bonkers." He closes his eyes again, feeling content and so far away from the moon. Vaguely he is aware of just how close he is to Sirius. Very, very close. And somehow, it only makes him feel more... comfortable. "I'm not blowing anything up though."

"No blowing up." Sirius promises with a hand-wave and yawns. "Potters' home. Wouldn't." And just like that, he goes out like a light, flopping over in the process of falling asleep, the formerly hand-waving hand coming to rest on Remus' exposed tummy. It settles in place as if it belongs there, involuntary twitches and muscle contractions after the exertion making it as if he is scritching Remus lightly, running his fingers over undamaged skin and scars alike. With another mumbled "Wouldn't.", he huffs out another breath which already turns into a snuffled snore. And still his fingers are scritching ever so lightly, leaving trails of warmth and dampness where they come to rest.


End file.
